The Conditions Of Caring
by bloodsoakedleather
Summary: Alternate Earth (just pick a number that hasn't been done yet) au: no particle accelerator explosion, thus no powers. There's something about hooker Barry Allen that reminds Detective Leonard Snart of his younger self, something that makes him want to help him, protect him. If only Barry wasn't too stubborn to accept help.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, this happens sometimes. You get waaaaaaaaaay behind with your wips and when time and inspiration finally strike it'so in a completely different fandom. Fear not fans of my other works, they will be finished eventually but for now this is the fic that'stung begging me to write it.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

"Don't you ever get tired of arresting hookers Detective Snart?" Barry asked, leaning back in his chair and staring across the desk at the cop. He was beginning to feel fidgety. It felt like he'd been sitting here for hours and the fact that after so many arrests the cop didn't need to ask his details anymore didn't help. The silence dragged on and on.

Len looked up from the form he was filling out and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't you ever get tired of being arrested, Mr Allen?" He asked. Barry sniffed loudly but otherwise remained silent. "That's the third time this month and there's still a week left to go."

"I'm tired of your condescending face and your disapproving looks Detective, that's what I'm tired of." Barry griped, pissy but not really mad yet.

"So find yourself a proper job and you'll never have to see either of them again."

Barry's brow furrowed and his nostrils flared slightly indicating an emerging annoyance with the detective.

"What I do IS a proper job." He said, bristling a little like he often did when the detective called him out on something. "World's oldest profession you know."

"And most dangerous."

For a moment the two men stared at one another then Barry threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"Oh, so you're worried for my safety Detective. And here I thought the reason you kept dragging me in here was because you had the hots for me."

Len snorted. Yeah right. He'd given up trying to pursue a relationship a long time ago and he had absolutely no interest in meaningless sex, with anyone let alone an obnoxious hooker, no matter how pretty said hooker was. And Barry Allen really was VERY pretty. The truth was, whether the kid believed it or not, Len did worry about him. He reminded him a lot of himself when he was Barry's age, smart and stubborn and determined to prove that he didn't need anyone else, that he was just fine on his own. The difference was that Len had had his sister Lisa to teach him that no one was just fine on their own. Barry, as far as Len could tell, had no one.

"Think what you like kid, but the fact is, if you don't find yourself another line of work you're gonna end up dead in a dumpster somewhere and I won't be looking at you across this desk, I'll be looking at you on a slab in the morgue."

Barry glared hard at the detective, angry now in a way he hadn't been before.

"I'm not a kid." He snapped. "And I can take care of myself."

"Well, I hope you're right k... Barry." Len said, catching himself just in time. He had nothing to gain by antagonising the other man further. He signed off on the bottom of his paperwork, put down his pen and stood with a small sigh of relief. "But for tonight taking care of you is the job of the CCPD. Come on, I'll take you down to the cells."

Barry stood up, still glaring, and when Detective Snart's hand came up to cup his elbow, he jerked his arm away almost violently.

"Don't bother. I know the way."

* * *

Lisa Snart greeted her brother at the door of their shared apartment with a bright smile but it fell away quickly when she saw how tired he looked.

"Oh. Rough day?" She asked.

"No rougher than usual. Just long." He shrugged off his parka and hung it on a hook next to Lisa's leather bike jacket and strode across the floor to the couch and plopped down in it. "Do I smell coffee?"

"I just making a fresh pot. I gather you want one."

"Please."

As Lisa disappeared into the kitchen, Len reached into his briefcase and took out the file he'd pulled earlier. Bartholomew Henry Allen, born 1989. Len knew enough about him to fill out any paperwork but he really didn't know anything about his background, about the things that had happened in his life that had lead him to where he was now and he thought if he knew more he might have a better chance of helping him. He started to read.

When Lisa returned five minutes later with coffee and a sandwich he had the contents of the file spread across his lap and he'd learned that Barry's mother had been killed when he was eleven and his father had been convicted of her murder. Christ, no wonder the guy was messed up. He'd been fostered soon after by Joseph and Francine West but he'd never settled and had been a frequent runaway. His first arrest for soliciting had been when he was seventeen. Len wondered if his first time with a john had been his first time proper. The thought made him feel sick. Lisa set the mug and the plate down on the side table and leaned over the back of the couch, peering over her brother's shoulder at a photo of a young man.

"Ooh. He's kinda cute, who is he?"

Len slammed the file shut and glared, as best he could from this angle, at his sister.

"Do you mind Sis? This is supposed to be confidential."

"Pffft. You shouldn't bring your work home with you if you don't want me to peek. So, who is he?"

"Just a hooker I arrested today."

"Just a hooker? Lenny, you've arrested a lot of hookers, it's your job, but you've never brought home any of their files before. What's different about this one?" She walked around the couch and flopped down beside him.

Len shrugged.

"I don't know. He had a rough childhood." He paused briefly. "Mom dead, dad in jail, foster system didn't work for him and I guess... I guess I see myself in him and if things had been different I might've have taken the same route you know? But I had you to look out for, to keep me right. Barry's all alone."

"Oh Lenny." She said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek before standing up. "He's not alone. He has you."

Watching his sister walk back into the kitchen he wished someone would explain that to Barry Allen because he felt like he was banging his head against a brick wall.

* * *

It was late next morning by the time Barry was released but at least Detective Snart's shift hadn't started yet so he managed to escape the building without another lecture about his poor career choice. What was the guy's problem anyway and where did he get off telling Barry what he could do with his own body? Maybe he was jealous or something, he probably hadn't gotten laid in forever.

When he finally arrived back at his apartment it was almost midday and his flatmate Cisco was just waking up.

"Hey, you're back." He yawned, shuffling through the living room in a pair of Green Arrow pyjama pants and rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. "I was worried when I woke up and you were still gone." In their line of work it wasn't uncommon to be gone all night so even though there was always some underlying concern any serious worries didn't usually set in till late. "Where ya been?

Barry huffed and mumbled under his breath and then said...

"Guess."

A broad grin spread across Cisco's face and his brown eyes began to twinkle with amusement.

"You got arrested by Hot Cop again right?" Cisco had only met Detective Snart once a few months back when he and Barry had been arrested together but he remembered the broad shoulders, smouldering gaze and salt and pepper hair very clearly.

"Urrgghh." Barry shuddered. "Will you please stop calling him that."

"Why? He IS hot. I'd definitely give him a freebie if I thought he was interested."

Barry shuddered again.

"You're a sick puppy Cisco Ramon." He scolded but he couldn't keep a small smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed." He said, heading towards the bathroom and brushing past his friend on the way.

"Hey." Cisco called after him. He heard him as he turned on the hot water. "Maybe that's what he's waiting for, a freebie. You should blow the guy next time and see if he eases up on ya."

"If that's what he's after he's gonna be waiting a very long time." Barry called back as he stepped into the shower. And it was the hot water, not Cisco's suggestion that he sucked Snart's dick that made his skin turn pink.

* * *

Tbc


	2. Chapter 2

It was five days before Barry saw Detective Snart again. He'd been working , obviously, in an alleyway that stunk of piss and rotting garbage, on his knees behind a dumpster (and no, he absolutely had not replayed the cops warning to him in his head as he walked towards it) sucking off some overweight bald guy who kept worrying his wedding ring every time Barry swallowed around him. The guy finished quickly, with a weak dribble rather than a gush and unlike most johns was polite enough to warn Barry in time to pull back. Not getting a mouthful was always good and not getting a face full either was an added bonus. All in all it was a quick and easy thirty bucks, just the kind of job he preferred

The guy handed over his cash without incident and they both thanked each other then Barry left him to catch his breath and wandered back to the entrance of the alley where the detective was waiting for him.

"Aw shit. Detective Snart." Barry greeted him through gritted teeth.

"Barry. Nice night." He glanced over Barry's shoulder at the man who was now shuffling in the direction of the alleys far end and said loud enough for him to hear. "Who's your friend?" Barry rolled his eyes. The guy stopped abruptly, turned round, saw Len then took off like his ass end was on fire. Before he disappeared though Len took one more shot. "Hey." He called after him. "I bet he didn't tell you he has herpes did he? Might wanna get yourself to a doctor, asap."

"You complete asshole." Barry growled and shoved the cop hard in the chest. He was fuming. "Just because you don't approve of what I do doesn't give you the right to mess with my business . Easiest money I've made in I don't know how long and thanks to you I'll probably never see him again. I got bills to pay you know, just like you and if I don't work I don't eat. Fuck." He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as all the fight drained out of him. "Am I under arrest... again?"

For the briefest of moments Len felt a little guilty but despite what Barry seemed to think he wasn't making his life difficult just for something to do, he was trying to get the guy off the streets so if he could scare away a few customers now and again that's just what he was going to do. Of course he wasn't naive enough to think that was all it would take but it was something.

He pulled out his handcuffs and jangled them at Barry.

Barry shook his head slowly.

"Really? You're gonna cuff me?"

"Standard procedure."

With a somewhat despondent sigh, Barry presented his wrists to the detective and waited. Len stared at the outstretched hands for a moment then shoved the cuffs back in his pocket.

"I guess we can skip 'em. As long as you come quietly."

For a moment Barry was tempted to say something sarcastic but he thought better of it.

"Where'd you leave your car?"

* * *

Barry was silent, sulky, the whole way back to the precinct. He thought about what Cisco had said about giving the cop a freebie and wondered if he offered would Snart actually let him go? Then he decided he'd rather spend another night in the cells, on principle.

Len was equally silent. It was pretty clear Barry wasn't in the mood to make conversation and he wasn't going to push, what would be the point? The guy was pissed enough at him as it was. He stole an occasional glance in the mirror though and when, each time, he saw Barry glowering back at him he told himself it didn't bother him.

* * *

The cells were relatively quiet, it being a week night. Quiet, that was, in the figurative rather than the literal sense. Only three were occupied. Barry's and two others, each containing drunks, one who was asleep and snoring like a congested howler monkey, the other who was wide awake and appeared to be barely a quarter of the way through singing Dolly Parton's entire back catalogue off key. Len genuinely did feel kinda guilty about leaving Barry in the middle of that but he figured he'd get over it.

"Sorry about the noise."

"Yeah? Bet you'd be sorrier if it was you in here instead of me." Barry snarked. Len let it go, he was probably right.

"So have you eaten yet?"

"Are you asking me to dinner Detective Snart?" Len let that go too, or rather he ignored it.

"Someone will come round with food in about an hour but if you're hungry I can..."

"I'm fine."

"Right. Okay then." There really wasn't much left to say so Len turned to leave. He'd taken maybe three or four steps when Barry called out...

"Breath mints."

"Sorry?" Len turned back.

"I've sucked three dicks tonight. If you could get me a pack of breath mints I'd appreciate it."

It was the first hint Barry had ever given that there were aspects of what he did with which he wasn't one hundred percent okay and Len found himself feeling both pleased and a little sad about that at the same time.

"Yeah, no problem."

Fifteen minutes later he returned with a packet of mints and a disposable toothbrush from the drug store across the street.

* * *

By the time Len got back to his desk he had less than ten minutes to go before his shift ended and couldn't wait to go home. Tonight had been... draining even though he hadn't done all that much. Maybe he was getting old he mused, he was..."

His train of though was interrupted by the rough bellow of Captain Rory who now filled the doorway to his office.

"Hey, Snart. Get yourself down to the morgue." Len was about to protest until... "We got another dead hooker."

* * *

Tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Just a short chapter this time. I've really struggled with this one in regards to the medical aspect. I did try to research it but still couldn't find much of the information I wanted regarding what sort of things it was possible for a coroner to determine prior to and during an autopsy, if indeed it could be determined at all so I just hope there's no glaring errors and that it reads okay at least to non medical persons. I also struggled with the dialogue and trying to describe the state of the body without making the entire chapter one long boring list of injuries. I'm not sure I'm happy with the way it's turned out but to be honest I could rewrite it a hundred times or a thousand and still not be happy with it. Anyway, it took me much longer to write than I anticipated and I just wanted to get this bit out because I know people are waiting.

* * *

Len stared down at the body of the young man on the table and tried very hard not to picture Barry in his place. They looked, as best he could tell from this angle, to be of a similar weight and height and certainly shared a similar colouring. The guy's face, neck and torso were so badly swollen and bruised that it was hard to identify any particular features or distinguishing marks. Len doubted his own mother would recognise him in this state. This wasn't a simple case of a john playing a little too rough and realising too late that he'd gone too far, Len had seen that more times than he wanted to remember and this was different. This was deliberate, whoever had done this had intended to hurt... to kill.

He didn't like what that suggested.

"Tell me what we've got Doc."

"Well." Dr Caitlin Snow began. "I'll know more once I've performed the autopsy but my initial examination shows multiple contusions in several areas of the body, some recent and some at least ten days old. He's a drug user, or at least he had been at some point. The initial tox screen showed no trace of the usual drugs in his system and none of the track marks on his arms are fresh. I don't think he's used in the last couple of weeks."

So the guy was trying to get clean then Len surmised, trying to turn his life around maybe. Somehow that just made this death seem even more tragic than it already was. Len sighed and nodded at the coroner to continue.

"There's extensive blunt force trauma about the face consistent with blows from a closed fist and..."

"Can you tell if he fought back?"

Doctor Snow chewed her bottom lip briefly before she answered.

"He didn't. There are no defensive wounds on his hands or forearms, no blood or tissue under his fingernails and... fresh abrasions around the wrists and ankles suggest he was restrained."

"Poor kid never stood a chance did he?" The doctor shook her head.

"His attacker probably overpowered him quite quickly."

Len figured that was probably the only thing about this crime that had happened quickly. This kid had suffered before he died.

"What else?" He asked. He knew instinctively there was more and he was half afraid he already knew what it was but he desperately hoped he was wrong.

The doctor took a breath.

"There are signs of sexual assault. Of course I can't say with a hundred percent certainty given his profession but there's extensive tearing in and around the anus, much more than you would typically expect to see after consensual rough sex."

"He was raped."

"In my opinion, yes. And given how fresh the wounds are, probably by his killer.

Shit, shit, shit. That, alongside one other detail, was what he'd been worried about.

"Any dna or trace evidence?" He asked, not really expecting an answer that could be deemed helpful.

"Plenty. Too much to be useful though I'm afraid. We found semen from three different men and also traces of a spermicide found in some brands of prophylactic. There's no way to determine if it was used during the rape or one of the consensual encounters."

"It figures." Len rubbed his hand over his head, his hair bristling slightly against his palm, and sighed despondently. "What about cause of death?" As much as he dreaded the answer he was confident that this at least would be something the coroner could be certain about.

Dr Snow left the autopsy table and walked over to her computer where she pulled up a file containing photographs of the dead man which showed injuries that hadn't been immediately visible with him on his back.

"This." She said, pointing. "Twenty seven stab wounds to the buttocks, genitals and upper thighs, at least three of which hit a femoral artery. He bled to death."

Len shivered, a cold clammy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He'd known it. He'd just fucking known it. Everything, the restraint marks, the beating, the rape, the stab wounds, it was all the same as the kid they'd found two weeks ago.

Central City had itself a serial killer.

* * *

Tbc


	4. Chapter 4

With a soft grunt Len dragged the wheeled whiteboard across the bullpen and positioned it next to his desk. Next he took two photographs from the files he'd brought with him and stuck them next to each other in the centre of the board then wrote their names underneath in black marker.

Victim number 1: Ronald Raymond

Victim number 2: Axel Walker.

The file on Ronald 'Ronnie' Raymond was thin. With just two prior arrests, both for vagrancy he was the new kid on the block so to speak. A case worker had found him a bed in a local shelter after the second arrest but it had been temporary and once his three nights were up he'd been tossed back out on the streets. Nobody had seen him after that until a demolition team found his body in a ground floor bathroom of a derelict apartment building a week later. There was no way to tell how he'd ended up on the streets in the first place but It wasn't hard for Len to imagine the kid cold and hungry and alone and so desperate he'd seen selling his body to strangers as his only option. It was a story he'd heard over and over and one that never failed to depress him.

If Ronnie Raymond was the new kid then Axel Walker, despite his youth, was an old hand. Multiple arrests for everything from vagrancy, shoplifting and receiving stolen goods to soliciting, housebreaking and possession of illegal substances. He'd also served two six month sentences, the first in Algoa where he'd acquired his drug habit and most recently in Maryville where he'd undergone treatment for it. And if Dr Snow had been right, the kid had been having some small degree of success. Police had found his body in his apartment after his drugs counsellor reported he hadn't showed up to his state mandated counselling session.

He sat his ass down on the edge of his desk, folded his arms across his chest and stared hard at the faces of the two young men whose lifeless eyes seemed to stare accusingly out at him from their autopsy photos, trying to imagine what they might have been like when they were alive. Before whatever had caused them to end up on the streets. Then of course he began to wonder about Barry. What had he been like before? Len had read his file so he already knew about his parents but he had no idea what Barry's life had been like before then? Had he been a happy kid? Had he had a tonne of friends? Had he been sporty or academic? What had been his hopes and dreams? Whatever they might have been Len was pretty sure having sex with strangers to make rent had never been a part of it. And what about his parents? Whatever problems Henry and Nora Allen had been experiencing, had they loved their son? Did he know it?

Christ! He was giving himself a damn headache.

He exhaled deeply, grabbed a mugshot from each file and headed down to the cells.

* * *

The drunk to Barry's left was still snoring loudly but it was steadier now, more even. The drunk to his right was no longer singing and had either fallen asleep or passed out, he wasn't sure which but he was thankfully for the silence. Barry was almost asleep himself. Sitting, not laying, at the end of his cot with his legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them and his head lolling to one side against the wall he had his eyes closed and was just beginning to drift when he heard footsteps in the corridor outside his cell. He waited a moment and when his visitor didn't speak he cracked open one eye, unsurprised to see Detective Snart watching him through the bars.

"Detective Snart." He said, opening the other eye but otherwise not moving. "This is the third visit this evening. To what do I owe the pleasure this time?"

"I had a couple of questions but they can wait. Go back to sleep." Len turned to leave but Barry stopped him.

"It's alright. I wasn't sleeping, not really. Just trying to kill some time. It's not like there's a whole lot else to do in here you know. And you're here now anyway so you might as well ask whatever it is you wanna ask."

Barry sat up properly and swung his legs over the edge of the cot. Len shuffled from foot to foot somewhat uncomfortably before taking a deep breath and holding up one of the photographs. It was the one of Ronnie Raymond.

"Okay. Do you know this man?"

Barry stood up and walked towards the front of the cell, stopping in front of the detective and peering through the bars at the photo.

"No." He said, after a few seconds, shaking his head. "Never seen him before."

"What about this one?"

This one Barry did know.

"That's Axel." He answered without hesitation.

"Friend of yours?"

"I wouldn't exactly call him a friend. More of an acquaintance really. We've uh... worked together a couple of times if you know what I mean."

Len knew exactly what he meant. Some johns got their rocks off just watching other guys fuck, some times they wanted a three way and Barry had worked one or both scenarios with Walker at some point. He forced back an unwelcome mental image of Barry and Axel together and continued.

"When did you see him last?"

Barry shrugged.

"I don't know. A few days ago I guess. Why, what's he done?"

"He was found dead this morning."

"Shit." Both men were silent for a few moments, Len giving Barry time to process the information. "He OD'd right?" Barry asked eventually. "Or was it a bad batch? I mean, I know he used so I guess it was only a matter of time before it caught up with him somehow but... Shit. Hey, listen, if you're looking to me to id his dealer or something I'm sorry but I can't help you. I'm not into that shit okay, I stay as far away as I can, no matter how bad things sometimes get. I might be messed up, but I'm not that messed up. Not yet anyway."

"I'm glad to hear it." Len responded, relieved to know that although he seemed not to have completely ruled out that possible future for himself, for now at least Barry did have some sort of self preservation instinct however slight. "But that's not why I'm here. Axel didn't OD, he..." Here Len hesitated. Why had he come down here? He hadn't known for certain until just now that Barry had even known either of the victims let alone heard or seen anything that might prove useful. Oh sure, he could pretend that was why he'd come, and he would ask the questions anyway but deep down, if he was honest, he knew the real reason he was here was to hopefully scare Barry into staying off the street.

"He what?" Barry questioned when Len didn't finish his sentence. "If he didn't die from an overdose then how did he die?" Len still didn't answer straight away and the silence was beginning to make Barry antsy. "Detective!" "He snapped, somewhere between annoyed and nervous. "How did Axel die?"

Len took a deep breath, looked Barry directly in the eye and said...

"He was murdered... by one of his clients."

* * *

Tbc


End file.
